


Sleeping Arrangements

by missunderstood88



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, First Time, I don't even know anymore, JUST, Shameless Smut, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missunderstood88/pseuds/missunderstood88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya and Gendry's sleeping arrangements are making life difficult for him. A flustered Gendry has to explain to Arya why they can't share a bed anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

> AU. Arya did not run away and has been travelling with Gendry and the brotherhood.

Gendry had never truly minded sharing a bed with Arya. In all honesty, he'd always found some comfort in having her small form curled up beside him. When he awoke from his nightmares, sweating and panicked, all he had to do was reach out and he would feel her there sleeping next to him and very much alive. Besides, now that they were well and truly into winter, they had always helped to keep each other warm, and Gendry honestly believed it had saved their lives on the nights where it was so cold that their piss had frozen in the chamber pots and their sheets had crusted hard with ice.

Gendry only had one problem: Arya was a squirmer.  Now, Gendry had no problem sharing a bed with funny sleepers. He had managed to sleep through Lem's prolific snoring; many a morning he had awoken sore and bruised from Anguy's kicking; Tom was a talker and often times sang in his sleep; Edric was a thrasher so that on the times all of them had to share a bed it would always end with everyone but Edric curled up at one end; and Harwin sleep walked, often into something, which would result in him spending half the night hopping around the room and cursing. None of it had ever bothered him. Arya's squirming, however, had caused him no end of problems.

She hadn't always been a squirmer. Up until not long ago she had been a solid sleeper, so much so that he would sometimes lay his hand close to her face to make sure she was still breathing. Then six moons past her wolf dreams had come back to her. She hadn't had one for over two years. But now they were back, and with them came the squirming.

It made Gendry  _hard_.

Arya, by most accounts, was not considered conventionally attractive, but Gendry thought she was beautiful. Fierce, passionate, loyal. What wasn't to love? She was still small, and could often pass off as Harwin's bastard daughter. But she had grown into a woman; her teats had grown in; admittedly very small ones, but teats they were. And her hips, there was no denying the way her waist dipped in and flared back out, or the curve at the bottom of her back. At nine and ten she was a woman, and Gendry was very aware of that fact.

Most nights now, Gendry awoke spooned around her, her backside rubbing forcefully against his hard cock whilst she squirmed and Gendry was sure it was going to drive him mad. He'd tried lying apart from her but the cold would drive him back to her warmth. He'd tried turning his back to her, but then she would spoon him and the feel of her breasts rubbing against his back and her crotch rubbing against his backside was just as maddening. He'd tried holding her tight against him but it didn't stop the squirming, and the feel of her in his arms was something he knew he enjoyed too much to be safe. It would have been okay if it had been a simple case of mind over matter, but it wasn't, and it was steadily getting to the point now where he was having to take himself in hand to get rid of his nightly problem. And that was just getting too risky. Twice she had nearly caught him.

So, six moons on, Gendry was fresh out of ideas. He'd asked Lem who had laughed and winked and told him to enjoy it. Tom had clapped him on the shoulder and called him a mad man for wanting to stop it. He hadn't dared go to Edric, whose sense of Lordly propriety would have seen the small man attempt to sever Gendry's head from his shoulders. Only Harwin had offered him any sort of advice: stop sharing a bed with her, and as much as Gendry was loath to do it, he saw no other options.

So it was, the next time they stopped at an Inn he had left Arya to put their horses into the stables and had gone inside to get them a room with two beds.

It hadn't done much good. Gendry had deliberately taken the bed furthest from the fire and as he had curled up to sleep that night, it was with mixed emotions. He felt the loss of her warm weight beside him keenly, but there was relief too that for the first time in as long as he could remember, he might be able to sleep unaffected. He had woken up close to the hour of the Ghost to find the fire had burned out and at some point during the night, Arya had crawled in beside him. They were closer than ever due to the narrowness of the bed. Their legs were entwined and her head was resting on the shoulder of his outstretched arm. And he was achingly hard.

The second night he slept facing the wall. Still, Arya crawled in behind him and he awoke to the firm press of her clothed breasts against the bare skin of his back, and whilst the squirming was relatively tame tonight, her small hand rested perilously low on his hip, so much so that the tips of her fingers had slid inside his loosely laced breeches. He'd spent the night with his hands bunched into the furs at his chest to stop himself slipping his hands down to his dick to relieve his worsening arousal.

By the third night, Gendry realised he would have to say something, and he was dreading it. How did one tell their best friend they couldn't share a bed with them anymore because their moving gave them a hard on? He'd drank more wine than he normally would at supper, but his palms were still sweating and his heart was hammering in his chest as she re-entered the room after having checked on the horses. Her hair was still wet from her visit to the bath house earlier and he could smell that she had paid extra for soap.

“The ground's still too icy for the horses. If you still want to leave on the morrow we'll have to do it by foot and lead them,” She was saying as she pulled her tunic over her head. “Personally, I'd rather stay a couple more nights until it thaws. We can afford it.”

“Mmmm,” Gendry answered non-committedly as he watched her strip her breeches from her legs. She was left standing before him in her grey under-shirt which had gone slightly see-through from where she stood in front of the light of the fire. Gendry's mouth went dry and he could feel his cock starting to harden slightly. This, he reminded himself, is exactly why she couldn't share his bed any more.

“Arya, I need to talk to you about something,” he said, before he could talk himself out of it.

“About what?” she had crawled into her bed and was now sat amongst the furs watching him expectantly. Gendry swallowed thickly.

“Well, you see … it's about our sleeping arrangements.” Arya frowned at him.

“You said that this was the only room they had left!”

“No! I mean yes, it was the only room they had left,” he fumbled over his words and he could feel himself colouring. “I just mean I don't think it's a good idea that we share a bed any more. I think you should stay in your own bed tonight.”

Gendry knew it was asking too much to hope that she wouldn't press the matter any further. And where anyone else probably would have accepted this whilst feeling put out, Arya merely narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, naturally inclined to be distrustful.

“Why?”

“It's just that it's a small bed,” he tried to explain, his voice breaking on the last few words, and he knew his excuse was falling short of the mark before he had even finished talking. “It's not really big enough for the both of us,” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. Arya scoffed.

“You're lying.”

“I'm not,” but the protest even sounded feeble to his own ears. Arya scowled at him from her bed before throwing back her furs and storming across the room. She reached his bed and then proceeded to crawl over him and settle underneath his furs. “Arya, what are you doing?” he asked weakly.

This was not going at all to plan.

“I'll move back to my own bed when you give me a  _real_  reason for why we can't share one, and if you don't have one then I see no reason why I can't sleep right here” she told him, and for the umpteenth time Gendry remembered how much he hated how confrontational she could be.

“Look, I just don't sleep well when I sleep next to you.”

“Again, you're lying.” Gendry's hands flew to his hair in frustration.

“I'm not,” and he wasn't. Not really. Arya sat up again.

“You are! I know you are! I know you better than I know myself! You’re practically shaking! Now tell me the truth!” She was near shouting at him now and Gendry could feel his temper starting to go.

“I am telling you the truth,” he growled back. “I just need you to sleep in your own bed.”

“Not until you tell me why!” And now she was shouting, “You’ve never had a problem before. And let’s not forget, you’re the one that suggested it to keep me safe after the man in the tavern back in Pinkmaiden tried to crawl into bed with me. You can’t just set a precedence and then change your mind with no real explanation. If you want me to sleep in my own bed, you tell me the truth!” Gendry felt the last of his control slip away as he flew up from the bed to spin towards her.

“Because you move,” he roared at her. “You move and you squirm and the whole time you're pressed up against me and it makes me hard!” He knew he was yelling, and he knew that the people in the rooms around them could probably hear every word he was saying, but at that point in time he was beyond caring. Arya's eyes widened and her mouth dropped in shock.

“Yes, that's right, I get hard! How could I not? You spend the whole night with your backside pressed up against my cock and you  _don't stop moving_. And let’s not forget the whimpering and the moaning and  _growling_. It's enough to drive a man mad.” He took a step forwards and his legs hit the edge of the bed, but it wasn't close enough to make his point, so he leaned in towards her and pointed his finger at her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that this was the first time he had ever left Arya Stark speechless. “Every night! Every night I wake up rock hard and all I want to do is flip you over and fuck you until you  _can't fucking move!_  If you're going to squirm and whimper and moan, I'd at least give you a reason to. But no, I end up having to fuck my hand instead and then spend the rest of the night tormented by that fact.” He was breathing heavily and he glared down at Arya as she sat staring at him in shock, her mouth working soundlessly. “So, if you don't mind, go to sleep in your own bed.” He finished fiercely.

“You want to fuck me?” Arya asked after a tense pause. Her face was still a mask of shock, but colour had risen high in her cheeks and had bled down her neck and into the collar of her under-shirt. Gendry licked his lips.

“Yes,” he growled at her. “And now that we've established that, I'd really like it if you could  _go to bed.”_

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Gendry's voice was dangerously low, and he had half a mind to tell her everything he'd had enough control so far not to. Like how the control that kept him from flipping her over and fucking her was quickly wearing out.

“I said no.” She'd recovered enough that the stubbornness had come back to her face and she stared definitely up at him. Gendry growled at the back of his throat.

“I'm not in the mood to play games, Arya.”

“I'm not playing games,” she told him defiantly.

“ _ARYA!_ ” he roared as he spun away from her.

“Gendry,” the softness of her voice startled him and his eyes returned to her small figure sat cross-legged on his bed.  _His_  bed. The flush in her face had deepened and she looked almost shy. “Come to bed.” Gendry's cock hardened almost instantly and he found himself breathing heavier again, for a completely different reason.

“Arya,” his voice was desperate and he could hear his own heart beating, the sound like drum beats in his ears. “Please.”

He didn't know what he was pleading her for. Pleading for her to listen to him? Pleading for her to understand what she was saying? Pleading for her to mean it? Arya didn't respond, she simply reached out her hand to him. He stared at her outstretched hand for a few seconds, warring within himself; desperate to reach out and take it, but too scared of what it would mean. She was the most important person in the world to him, he couldn’t face losing that to impulse. Gendry looked away, swallowing hard. “Arya, just go to bed.” He told her gruffly.

“I am in bed.”

Gendry sighed, his cock throbbing almost painfully and he dropped his eyes to what would be a very obvious bulge in his breeches, only to find it was much worse. Shame and humiliation washed over him. The head of his dick was poking out the top of his breeches where the force of his arousal had burst free from its confines, glistening with pre-cum and angrily red. There was no way she hadn’t seen it. He dropped his head into his hands and moaned pitifully.

He heard her shifting on his firs, but was too embarrassed to lift his face from his hands. He only did so when he felt the cold touch of her fingers ghost across his bare chest. His body immediately heated, and he could feel the colour rising in his cheeks. She was staring up at him almost reverently and Gendry felt his chest tighten with the need for air as he had stopped breathing the moment his eyes met hers. Slowly, she leaned up and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.

The dam broke.

Gendry pressed back forcefully against her lips, and in one swift movement had gathered her up from the bed to hold her firmly against his body, and she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist. He moaned loudly into her mouth as the head of his dick brushed against her backside and he clutched her closer to him, taking the opportunity of Arya’s gasp to sweep his tongue into her mouth. He spun around, his back to the bed and sat down with Arya settled across his lap. Almost immediately she was grinding to down onto him. Another loud moan was torn from his throat as he realised that she hadn't been wearing any small clothes, and he could feel her lips and their slickness sliding across the head of his cock.

Suddenly, she was bare to him, small teats swaying tantalisingly before him as she continued to grind away, and he couldn't for the life of him remember who had removed her undershirt. In all honesty, he really didn’t care. He dipped his head, nuzzling at the shallow valley between her breasts, breathing her in, before turning his head to capture one of her nipples between his lips. Arya arched up with a cry, her nails digging into his shoulders as she panted slowly above him. His large hands splayed across the small of her back and her hips, and pulled her down against him forcefully, desperately seeking the friction he needed. He growled against her skin as he rutted up into her again.

He felt her hand leave his shoulder and snake down between their bodies to brush across the tip of his cock. Gendry hissed as a bolt of pleasure shot up his spine, and Arya quickly pulled her hand back, clearly afraid she had done something wrong. He watched her through lidded eyes, never once stopping the movement of his hips against her, watching as she looked down at the fingers of the hand she had used to touch him, theirs tips glistening with a mixture of both their juices. Slowly she raised her fingers to her mouth, wrapping her lips around them to taste it, and looked him directly in the eye. Gendry’s hands gripped her tighter and heat exploded beneath his skin.

He moved again, lifting her easily to deposit her on the bed, on her hands and knees. One hand dipped down to slide across her wet slit as the other moved to work at the loose ties of his breeches. Slowly he dipped a finger inside of her, groaning at the way her body seemed to pull him into her; hot, unbelievably wet and impossibly tight. He pumped once, twice and then added another finger. Arya keened and her back arched, pushing herself back onto his fingers. Gendry’s trembling hand began to work at his breeches in earnest.

With his fingers still pumping in and out of her slowly, he extended a third finger to the small bundle of nerves above her entrance and began to slowly circle it, as the knots of his breeches finally came free. Arya moaned, pushing back faster and harder and within seconds Gendry had pushed down his breeches and kicked them off. He continued his ministrations as he crawled onto the bed behind her, his free hand slowly stroking over the length of his cock. He knew he was by no means a small man, and from the way her cunt clamped around his fingers, he knew this was going to hurt her.

He removed his hand from her, much to her dismay and moved forward to lean over her back, lavishing wet kisses across her neck and shoulders. The head of his cock poked impatiently at her entrance and his chest tightened in anticipation. He could feel Arya trembling beneath him, though whether from desire or fear, he didn’t know. He brought a hand to her hip to steady her, using the other to sweep her hair over her shoulder.

“Arya.” Arya turned to look at him, face flushed, eyes bright and breathing heavily. She had never looked more beautiful. He lent forward to capture her lips, then slid himself forward and in one swift movement buried himself inside her.

His lips swallowed her cry of pain and he continued to kiss her as he waited for her to adjust, every muscle in his body thrumming with the need to move. A primal urge had swelled up inside of him, he needed to complete this, to claim her. He had never felt anything as perfect as the feel of him inside of Arya. He brought his arm around her, to where they were joined and again began to slowly circle her clit.

He ground his hips against her, and Arya tore her lips away from his with a gasp. It was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly he began to move, sliding in and out of her at a maddeningly slow pace, conscious that this was not without pain for her. It wasn't until she began to push back, whimpering that he sped up his pace.

He could feel her clenching around him with every stroke, her body trembling beneath his hands and Gendry was completely lost in the feel of her. He threw back his head and closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to  _feel_  her. He could feel the tension beginning to coil low in stomach, and he knew that he would not last long. He doubled the efforts of his hand upon her cunt, pushing harder, moving faster, and as he did so, his strokes in and out of her followed; harder, faster, and more desperate.

Arya was moaning wantonly now, and her hand flew out to briefly grab onto the head board before she reared up onto her knees and Gendry pulled her to him; her back to his chest. His free hand immediately slid up from her hip to her breasts, taking her nipple between his fingers and rolling it. His lips dropped to her neck, kissing every bit of skin they could reach. He could feel her fluttering around his cock, faster, stronger and he knew she wasn’t far off, but he was so close, too close.

He moaned into her neck, and his arms tightened around her, pulling her against him. Her head dipped back, and both her arms came up to bury her hands into his hair. His thrusting was almost desperate now, and the pressure of his finger increased on her. Arya’s trembling intensified, and he knew he was only seconds away from release.

“Arya, please,” was all it took for her come apart in his arms. She came with a hoarse cry as her body arched up and the fluttering’s of her inner walls sent him spiraling after her. He came with a moan, his eyes closing and his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of Arya’s shoulder. Colour flashed behind his eyelids and he knew the grip he had on Arya would probably leave bruises, but he couldn’t stop any of it as he continued to pound into her, spending himself inside her.

They collapsed onto the bed, both of the trembling, the sound of their breathing harsh in the quiet room. He rolled onto his back, one arm still trapped beneath her, and he used it to pull her over to him, settling her across his chest; unwilling to lose contact with her. He could feel her heart beating wildly within her chest and her warm breath gusted across his bare chest. She turned her face towards him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and he felt her lips curl up into a smile against his skin. His lips automatically mimicked hers and he soon found himself smiling up at the ceiling, aware that he must look like a fool. He really didn’t care. He raised his head to drop a kiss into her hair. Arya sighed contentedly.

“So what do we do now?” She asked softly, uncertainly. Gendry laughed breathlessly.

“Give me a short while, and we’ll be doing that again.”


End file.
